Lights, Cameras, & Harry Styles

7: Movies, Popcorn, & Harry Styles

 - Harry -

"AMBER! HURRY UP! IT'S ELEVEN THIRTY!" I pounded on the bathroom door. It felt like I'd been here for hours, hitting the door with my fist in attempts to hurry Amber up. It's been almost an hour and she's still in the bathroom. What takes her so long? Why is it that girls always spend eternity in there? It makes me curious. So curious that I'm about to place my hand on the doorknob, but I don't have time to. The door swings open and there stands Amber. She's angry. Her eyes are shooting daggers back at me and her hand is still tightly gripping the door handle.

But that's not what steals attention. My eyes are glued to her body, slowly scanning her from head to toe. She's sporting a short, dark blue dress that outlines every dip and curve of her body. The neckline falls low, revealing a bit cleavage that my eyes keep wanting to fall to.

Her hair was straightened, falling below her shoulders almost perfectly, and her lashes seemed longer and full. Her blue-green eyes were as vibrant as ever, still glaring back me as I just stood there and stared.

I gather myself and force a frown onto my face, pretending that I wasn't just ogling her. And, because we've all established that I'm a massive jerk, the first thing I say is: "Way to promote sex." 

Amber gasps.

"You're a fucking jerk, you know that?" she snaps, catching up to me as I pry open the apartment door.

I smirk, rolling my eyes as I step into the hall. 

She slams the door behind us, stomping past me without snapping another witty comment. She's definitely pissed. But she can't be as pissed as me. No way. She's the main reason we have to start this fake dating crap anyways. If she hadn't agreed with Liam, none of this would be happening. We'd just pretend to get along, do the movie, and move on with our lives, but Amber had to go and screw it all up. It's just stupid, really. Liam of all people knows I won't be able to pull this off. He knows what happened in the past. He bloody knows.

"How exactly are we getting to the movies?" I realize as I follow Amber into the lift. "We have no car."

"Carol texted me." She mumbles, slouching up against the wall and not looking at me. "Rented a car for us. It's parked in the lot."

I just nod even though she's not looking. I run my hand through my curls multiple times trying to calm myself down. What if the paps are already there? What will they expect to see? I may have gotten that movie role, but I'm not an actor. I can't pretend to love Amber. The word makes me cringe. I could never. Anyone but Amber. It just can't happen. It won't happen. I don't want to hold Amber's hand. I don't want to look at her in any other way that's not hate. I simply do not want too. Not Amber. Why did I have to go along with Louis' bet? Why did I have to audition? Look where it all landed me. And instead of pulling myself out of this mess, it feels like I'm falling deeper into it each day. Besides that, it feels like the more time I spend with Amber, the more I continue to dislike her, yet it's my entire fault. I'm the reason we hate each other. I'll never admit it though. No way. 

"Harry? Harry!" I'm snapped out of my thoughts by Amber waving her hand in front of my face. I blink, the look on my face exposing my sudden confusion.

"Huh?" I respond, glancing at my surroundings.

"Stop thinking so hard." Amber frowns. "Are you gonna stay in there all day?"

Reality hits me. I'm still in the lift. The doors have opened, waiting for Amber and me to exit. Amber huffs, twirling around and stomping out of the lift. I roll my eyes, following after her. Attitude much?

Once we're out of the building, I spot a black Civic parked in the first visible parking space. That must be it, I assume. There was no other Civics around. In fact, there weren't many other cars around. It made me wonder if Amber and I are the only people living in this apartment building.